Once Bitten
by ChocolatStar
Summary: Once upon a time Ron and Hermione fell in love. They were blissfully happy and loved each other forever. The End. ...Or is it? 25 years can change people beyond recognition after all...


Hello! Ok so if you've receiving author alerts about me and was expecting a new chapter of Potentially Problematic, well, I'm really sorry ;-) But I promise everyone who cares that I'm in the middle of that particular chapter and it will be ready any day now.

It must look pretty bad, mustn't it? I'm currently writing a Harry/Hermione (Harmony?) fic and have now just posted an abusive Ron fic…yeah that pretty much makes me look like I hate Ron. I promise you I don't! lol. He's actually one of my favourite characters - it's just that my imagination demand I write these things!

Also must add that I don't think for one second that Ron would ever hit Hermione - ever - and I certainly don't think that, if he did, Hermione wouldn't stupefy his ass into the next decade…but this story is very much alternate reality and experimental.

This really is very dark and adult and features strong language and domestic abuse - so you've been warned.

Disclaimer: I own many things - a computer, a car…this penny I've just found, but sadly, I don't own Harry Potter or any of his wizardy pals.

Once Bitten 

There was once a time when Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were as close as two people could possibly be.

There was once a time when each would willingly lay down their lives for the other.

And once a time when the hallowed walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry echoed with their resounding laughter and the first telltale signs of romance sparkled between their shy glances to one another.

But twenty-five years can change people beyond recognition.

"_What became of that girl from Hogwarts?" they'd ask. "You know that friend of the Boy Who Lived?" _

"_Top class student and an exceptional witch I heard. She even helped to take down You Know Who!" they'd say. _

"_Oh well, I hear she's married to Ron Weasley now. And quite happy they are too," they answered…_

Hermione felt every bit of breath leave her body as she crashed into the conservative white walls of her two bedroom house and crumpled to the floor in a heap. There she lay, spluttering and staring dully forward with eyes that had long since lost any sparkle of life.

She had always hated that colour. Hermione had wanted to paint the walls with blues and greens - colours of the sea, but white walls came as standard and she never seemed to have the time to re-paint them.

Bringing her knees up to her chest protectively, she cried.

Ron stood over her, already lowering his fist. Hermione knew without even needing to lift her weary head that his expression - so full of rage only seconds before - would already be transforming into one of shock and guilt. He'd be almost surprised at what he'd done. He'd blame her, telling her that she 'knew what he got like,' and if he was feeling generous, he might apologise and give her a kiss and a cuddle.

It was a tactic that had worked on Hermione many a time, but as she sat, blubbering against her knee, she wondered if she could really go through it all again.

Everyday it was the same.

"Baby," he choked. It was almost sincere. She could almost believe it. "I'm sorry - you got me all angry didn't you? You know what happens when I get mad. Look, I didn't mean it - come here." He held out a hand to her and wore an expression that could only be described as pathetic.

Hermione glared at the offered limb in contempt, before slapping it away. Ron held his hand to his chest and cradled it, as if mortally wounded.

Hermione got to her feet, folded her arms and quickly retreated to the other side of the room.

"Baby -" Ron cooed, but Hermione shut out his voice and swiped at her tearstained face with shaking hands. She'd stopped crying, and now just felt angry. Angrier than she'd ever felt. Something had snapped inside Hermione.

Not anymore.

"Hermione - come on, come here." Ron open up his arms expectantly, because that's how she'd always reacted in the past. Ron would smack her around and she'd run back to him as loyal as a puppy.

Not this time.

"No Ron!" Hermione cried hoarsely. "No! Not again. You can't just hit me about and then expect everything to be all ok again!"

Ron lowered his arms and sighed, rolling his eyes as if she were being ridiculous. "Oh come on, you know I was just mad. I love you."

"No!" she roared, glaring fiercely at him. "God, everyday you're the same! Aright fine - maybe at some point you did love me, but now you're just…I don't even know what you're doing. It can't possibly be love. Something else…power, possession - the thrill of beating down someone physically weaker than you?"

"I do," he bleated. "I love you Hermione."

"Shut up! Just shut up and get out of my head! I'm tired of your mind games Ron!"

He sighed again in that excruciatingly patronising way of his and her jaw clenched. "Oh baby look - you're getting yourself all upset."

"Of course I'm upset. My husband just punched me into a wall. I think that gives me ample reason to be upset Ron!"

"Look, ok - I'm sorry alright? I'm sorry." He pronounced the last apology with deliberate slowness, as if she just wasn't getting it.

Hermione shook her head at him, closing eyes against a sudden rush of bitter tears. "You're not," she choked. "You're not sorry. You always say you are - and I always believe you…but I don't believe you anymore."

"Listen -"

"I've been thinking about it for a while now," Hermione continued, her voice shook and suddenly she was openly crying again. "Every time you hit me down I wondered why. I always thought it was my fault somehow…perhaps I wasn't a good enough wife. Maybe I could have been better at cooking or cleaning…or in bed…maybe…but…you beat me down to make yourself feel better and now I'm thinking 'why would that make the man who supposedly loves me, feel better?'" She stared at Ron for a long time. He looked back, trading uncomfortable glances with the floor every now and then, but remained silent. "This is messed up. Can't you see that Ron? This is wrong!"

She turned, almost sadly, and headed for their shared bedroom. The bed was perfectly made. Happy faces of herself and Ron and them with friends smiled out at her from the perfectly straight picture frames on the white-washed walls. The bedside table was uncluttered and clear of dust. It was all attempts to win Ron's heart back. Hermione had figured that if she kept a clean home that would make her a good wife - and make Ron love her again.

Hermione didn't linger on these thoughts as she quickly pulled open the cupboard and snatched down a small, wheeled trunk from the top shelf. Throwing it open, she began to tug open draws and stuff in random piles of clothes.

Ron walked slowly in and leant against the door frame. She could feel his eyes on her as she worked.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a weary sigh.

Hermione seethed hearing such a casual tone of voice. He thought she wouldn't do it. He thought she wouldn't leave. She'd show him.

"I'm going to stay with Harry for a while," Hermione answered simply.

There was a beat of silence. Hermione could practically see the room fill with a big solid mass of tension.

"What?" he hissed.

Hermione swallowed. "You heard me," she replied shakily but with clear determination.

Ron took a couple of steps into the room and casually pulled out his wand from his jean pocket. Hermione eyed it wearily for a second and then closed up the trunk and placed it on the floor.

"You going to get him to come shout his mouth off around here again, huh?"

"I have no control over what Harry does or doesn't do."

"Oh Hermione, it does no good to get Harry involved. It just makes everyone's lives complicated."

"Do you know he's scared for me Ron?" Hermione asked, shifting her weight about nervously. "Do you know he said that he couldn't believe what you've become - couldn't believe that you were the same Ron? …He didn't want me to come back here."

"Harry doesn't understand. …Nice to know he's been bloody talking about me behind my back though. Some buddy."

"He wants you to get help," she blurted, and stiffened as Ron's eyes snapped to her sharply. "But only because he cares."

"Yeah right - all heart is ol' Harry. You're fucking him I presume?"

Hermione felt a deep, crazed anger rise within her and before she even knew what she was saying, she'd screamed, "Sometimes I wish I had!"

Ron was on her in an instant. Slamming Hermione against the wall, he jabbed his wand at her throat. They were both breathing heavily and glaring furiously at the other.

"Well go on then!" cried Hermione, feeling insane with rage. "Do it! Go on Ron! Sought me out! Give me what for! I've been bad haven't I? I've made you mad! Come on Ron - come on!"

Ron was gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles turned white and his hand shook. He gave an almighty yell and then threw the wand into the wall on the other side of the room. His clenched hands went up to his head and then he slumped forwards. When he came back up, it was as if all the anger had drained from him and he fell down onto the bed, exhausted.

"What happened to us Hermione? We used to be so happy, right?"

He was searching her eyes for something - for comfort, reassurance that they had once had love? She glared back at him defiantly, feeling more elevated than she ever had before. She grabbed her trunk. "I'm tired of these mood swings Ron. I need you to think about what I really mean to you. I want you to get help. If you don't then I'm leaving you for good, before you actually go all the way and murder me in one of your angry phases." She walked to the bedroom door, paused, and then turned her head back to Ron. He looked up at her hopefully, and for a second, Hermione was sure that she'd seen the old Ron in those eyes - the Ron who'd been as harmless as a fly. "I'll be in touch," she said quietly and then she left.

"_They were lucky, those two. Wish I could be as happy with someone," they'd say. _

"_Yep. Those two were just meant to be," they answered. _


End file.
